


I was lost (till I found you)

by fantasy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, bit of ziam on the side, cheesy pointless fluff, lourry, supermarket, valentines day au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:29:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasy/pseuds/fantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <br/>
  <i>“No, no, Zayn you have to go! Have fun with Liam,” he pronounces Liam’s name like the devil and his voice high pitched and fake as fuck and Zayn can probably read Louis’ fucking mind right now and will probably pull a martyr move and ditch his Valentine's date just to comfort his pathetic asshole of a best friend who can’t bear to see others happy in relationships unless he is too so Louis cuts the phone, switches it off and buries his head into his pillow, wailing about his pathetic life to himself.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>or </p><p>the one where it's valentine's day, there's a society for single dudes that louis made, theres just a little cute ziam on the side, louis can't reach the topshelf at the market, harry stares at louis' bum and everything's pointlessly fluffy and louis and harry share cute texts<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	I was lost (till I found you)

**Author's Note:**

> this was ramble that turned into i dont know what but we can never have too many louisandharry valentines day fluff so 
> 
> title from I Found You - The Wanted
> 
> this work is purely fiction, i don't own anything or anyone and i am in no way claiming that this is related to one direction in real life etc etc etc

So Louis is fine.

In fact, he’s better than fine, he’s fucking dandy. Over the moon, you could say on the seventh heaven or sky or whatever the fuck that expression was.

It’s not like he minds being alone on his Valentine’s Day.

Because he doesn’t, really.

It’s not like he screamed at Niall for getting a “hot date” (on Valentine’s day) because that’d be crazy.

And it’s not like he felt like puking when Zayn called to cancel their WSDaWLIS (also known as We’re Single Dudes and We’re Loving It Society) day plans for a date with one of his co-workers.

“His name’s Liam,” Zayn gushed over the phone. “And he’s really nice and I like him, I think. You don’t mind do you, Lou? You’ll be fine right?”

Louis can’t bring himself to reply just yet because seriously, why him?

“Louis?”

And it took all of Louis’ willpower not to fucking punch Zayn over the phone because hello? WSDAWLIS celebrators don’t fucking get dates on Valentine’s Day. It’s just not done.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Louis in a falsely cheery voice. “You have fun today, Zayn, really, I mean it. I’ll be fine. Alone. On Valentine’s Day. I’m cool with it.”

Course you can’t lie to your best friend, especially not when he’s a freaking psychology major like Zayn.

“Lou,” Zayn sighed. “It’s okay I’ll stay, we can’t miss the We’re Single Boys and We like It Group Day’s traditions and-”

He got the name wrong. And Louis wants to correct him but.

“No, no, Zayn you have to go! Have fun with Liam,” he pronounces Liam’s name like the devil and his voice high pitched and fake as fuck and Zayn can probably read Louis’ fucking mind right now and will probably pull a martyr move and ditch his date just to comfort his pathetic asshole of a best friend who can’t bear to see others happy in relationships unless he is too so Louis cuts the phone, switches it off and buries his head into his pillow, wailing about his pathetic life to himself.

But he doesn’t spend the day wallowing in his grief alone because Louis has higher standards; he needs chocolates, a really sad movie and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough to keep him company as well as a huge blanket to wrap himself in.

Thing is, he needs to get out of bed to get the ice cream and chocolates but Louis isn’t a man who backs up from a challenge.

He forces himself out of the tangle of sheets he’s under; grimaces at his scruffy bed head look in the mirror before running a hand through his hair, pulling on a beanie and running out of the apartment in a pair of slippers, before he changes his mind.

So Louis, wearing sweatpants, a faded T-shirt of a band he doesn’t even know and a beanie, looking like he just stepped out of bed (which he did) shuffles through the streets of London, head down, in case someone he knows spots him in his sad attire (because he does have a reputation to uphold).

In short, Louis feels like a man on a mission.

Well, not really. Especially not when he sees the prices marked for the boxes of chocolates at the supermarket, and starts muttering ruthlessly about the absurd prices (because really now, not everyone can afford to pay the amount of money you’d save for a new car for a box of fucking chocolates.) So he grabs the cheapest box and heads towards the ice-cream freezers.

And he’s about to reach for the Cookie Dough tub, stretching just a bit on his toes (because obviously they had to put Louis’ favourite choice on the top shelf) when he hears a voice behind him:

“D’you want help with that?” the voice drawls.

Louis swivels round and sees what might just be the prettiest boy on Earth.

(Like those pretty boys that Louis would dream of going on dates and stuff with, even pretty enough that Louis ~~would~~ might ask on a date.)

But prettiest boy on Earth or not, he did just insult Louis indirectly. And that is so not appreciated because excuse me, he is not short, he’s just small-boned or whatever.

“No,” Louis huffs. “I’m doing fine thank you very much.” He narrows his eyes at nameless-pretty-eyed-boy.

“Sure, mate” nameless-pretty-boy says, enunciating each syllable extremely slowly (why he did that; Louis had no idea and was he trying to be sarcastic or something; again no clue).

Louis rolls his eyes and attempts to reach for the tub again, conscious of the boy’s eyes on him. (Can he call him a boy? To be fair, he looks right about his age so Louis can hardly call him a boy but who’s going to check?)

He grabs it (score one for The Tommo!) and turns back around, with a triumphant smile on his face.

“If you’re done staring at my bum, I’d like to go now,” Louis says, tilting his head sideways and smirking at the boy’s flushed face, who moves out of the way, mouth agape.

Louis walks ~~struts~~ off and even if he does swing his hips just a little, no one can blame him because you know what they say, all’s fair in love and war.

(And he kind of likes the pretty boy who looks like someone you’d see on the cover of a magazine or a catalogue, even though he did call Louis short but he thinks he can let that pass cause it’ not every day you meet a super pretty boy who was ogling your butt, right?

So you can’t really blame him when he calls over his shoulder:

“I'm Louis” hoping for a reply and maybe, just maybe a phone number to go, but nope, God still hates him.

But maybe pretty boy was too busy staring at Louis’ backside? That though cheers him up, just a little.)

Louis buys and leaves. As he enters the parking lot, he freezes because there is no way, no way at all, he just heard someone call-

“Louis!”

He turns around so fast he thinks he’s cricked his neck but smiles anyway because there is an incredibly pretty lad, with eyes that Louis could swear changed between blue and green and hair that so fluffy and curly, pushed up in a half-quiff, panting like he ran a full mile marathon, who he caught staring at his bum just a few minutes ago.

“Harry Styles,” the pretty lad pants out, holding out his hand.

(And it’s so fucking big all Louis can think is ohmyfuckinggodhishandhisfuckinghand and mydickpeasetouchmyfuckingdick because fuck, if there’s something he remembers in Biology is that big hands mean big dicks.

Not that he’s picturing anything to do with Harry’s hand or Louis’ dick in his head, no, definitely not.)

“My name’s Harry, hi.”

It’s fair to say that Louis is a bit distracted right at this moment.

Pretty name, pretty lad, pretty face, and pretty eyes, pretty hands, pretty dick and a pretty, pretty little-

What the fuck no okay, play it cool Tomlinson, play it cool.

“Hi I’m Louis Tomlinson,” Louis says slowly, like he meets super pretty boys that he caught checking his bum out at the supermarket all the time. And he shakes Harry’s large as fuck hand with his and no his heart isn’t fluttering because their hands fit together so nicely, and he feels warm and comfortable and-

Harry pulls away and Louis tries not to look too disappointed (he thinks he succeeds).

“Um, well,” Harry looks mildly confused, scratching the back of his neck, looking so adorable Louis wants to pull Harry’s cheeks and scream at the same time because hello? Louis + cute adorable and hot at the same time people (Harry for example) = Louis embarrassing himself and/or peeing his pants out of fondness.

“My number?” Louis asks. “Should I give you my number?”

(Louis ~~is~~ might be crossing his toes and his fingers and thinking:

Please don’t say no, please don’t say no I really want to cuddle you and have sex with you and you’re really pretty please.

If his head was an internet chat box there’d be lots of sad faces and cute little emojis of kittens and puppies because no one can say no to that, really. Not even Louis when he hasn’t had his tea in the morning.)

But, it was a good moment for Louis and maybe God took pity on him because Harry nodded smiling widely. Louis digs into his jacket finding a sharpie and scribbles down his number on Harry’s arm (near a few tattoos that Louis hopes one day Harry will let him read and memorize because he’d like that, he really would) making a mental note to switch his phone on the second he gets home.

And so that’s that.

Louis sits in the driver’s seat of his car, not bothering to start up the engine because he’s so happy and excited and a whole bunch of other things and he really, really wishes Harry will text him.

As happy as he was in the parking lot, Louis is worried as he drives through the streets of London, because what if Harry loses his number or smudges it or forgets about him or texting him or remembers but doesn’t want to text him and is laughing about it right now with his model/ hot actor boyfriend telling him about the weird short guy who gave him his number even though he didn’t ask for it or-

The possibilities are endless and Louis is sad now. He sits with his head on his dining table his supermarket buys dumped next to him and can’t bring himself to get up, let alone switch his phone on.

But he does, get up that is, because the ice cream and chocolates next to him is melting and no one not even a pretty lad like Harry is worth melting a tub Ben & Jerry’s and chocolates.

So he gets up and drags himself to the freezer, stuffing the boxes into it and going to his bedroom, falling face flat onto the covers. He rolls over and starts to pep talk himself about being a needy pathetic old sod. Because Louis Tomlinson does not sink that low, not even for people like Harry.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Louis tells himself. “He might not text you or call you or meet you ever again, so what? There are plenty of fish in the sea, Tomlinson, plenty of them.”

None as pretty as Harry, though, he can’t help but think.

(And even though this is shallow and whatever but Louis has a good as fuck people radar and he can always tell what people are like by just looking at them.

But Louis knows that’s not true because he couldn’t tell with his last few boyfriends, not with Mark the guy who smoked tobacco way too much or Jeremy who was way into kinky stuff that Louis never wanted to do but still did reluctantly, or Nicholas, that lied to him too much for a normal relationship Louis thinks.

But Harry was different, Louis knew he was.)

So yeah he switched his phone on because that and curiosity got the best of him.

He watched the logo appear and the screen load slowly, hugging his pillow tightly to his chest.

5 missed calls, Zaynie  
12 messages, Zaynie, Nail File or Niall is the best), unknown

Heart thumping against his chest, Louis opened the unknown text first.

From: Unknown  
To: Louis  
“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii is this Louis? This is Harry from the supermarket, the tall one, remember? I hope this is the right number :)”

He stares at the text in front of him for a long, long time before shrieking out a “yeeeeeeeeep” and smiling so wide, his face muscles are paining but Louis doesn’t care because he’s so happyhappyhappy.

Fingers shaking he types out a reply:

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Hello :) yes this is Louis, I remember you. It was nice to meet you today! x”

(He adds an x at the end because why the hell not?)

Hoping that Harry doesn’t think that’s as pedophilic as Louis does, he presses send before he chickens out.

(Let’s not leave out the rest of the conversation that Louis may or may not screenshot and print because they’re the cutest, him and Harry.

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“So… what’s up? :) x

He added an x and Louis is /not/ hyperventilating. He’s not, he’s just breathing too hard, too fast, like his chest is bursting.

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Nothing much, just looking for a movie to watch, you?”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“I’m eating curly fries :) :) :)”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Harry :(”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Louis :)”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“You’re making me hungry :(”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Sorry :(, come over and we’ll share :)”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Is that an invitation? ;)”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Maybeeee”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“I’m a man of high standards, Styles; you’re not getting me that easily ;)”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Dinner first?”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Not high enough”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Louis Tomlinson, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to dinner this Friday night?”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Hmm I don’t know, I’m a busy man, really”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Louis :(”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Harry :D”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Please?”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Depends, what d’you have in mind?”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“I was thinking a five star hotel dinner and a visit to the Theatre of Arts? x”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Sounds good. Pick me at seven”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“I was kidding, we’re going to watch a movie and eat greasy food at the park :) .x”

If Louis said he didn’t laugh, he’d be lying.

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Even better xx”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Great! See you then :) x”

So yeah they’re pretty darn cute, if Louis does say so himself.)

Needless to say, Louis does eat the Cookie Dough ice cream and box of chocolates (why let them go to waste?) but it isn’t a sad movie he watches, it’s a corny lovey dovey movie that he can imagine Harry watching, Love Actually.

And he doesn’t get too mad at Niall and Zayn for spamming his messages. Louis just met Harry and he already feels like a changed person (not really, he still didn’t shave or shower or get out of bed till he absolutely had to pee really badly).

But yes, other than that, he feels happier, more nice-Louis and fond-Louis than sarcastic-Louis and annoyed-Louis.

And that night when Zayn calls him , full of apologies and asking him how his day went, Louis just smiled and told him it was okay (it was better than okay, but that’s a secret Louis’ll share later).

He listens as Zayn recounts his date with Liam and can almost feel him swooning over the phone (literally swooning like a 13 year old who got asked out by the most popular guy in school). And usually Louis might’ve scoffed at him but he didn’t (it might be cause Zayn sounded exactly how Louis would if it was Harry in the picture).

And when Zayn asks Louis what he did today he pauses, before saying some stuff about visiting a supermarket and watching a movie and admiring the fine, fit Adonis-like creature that is Hugh Grant.

Zayn can tell Louis is hiding something but like a wonderful best mate, he doesn’t say anything except to ask:

“So you had a good day then?”

“Yeah,” says Louis, still smiling. “It was good.”

-

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“I just found a strand of hair in my taco, I think it’s a good thing you didn’t eat it :/”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“I’m watching Toy Story Louis :D”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Louis?”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“You’ve got a friend in meeeee”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“I really like this movie :)”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Louis, are you sleeping?”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Yes, Harry, you dolt, go to sleep”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“But I’m not sleepyyyy”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Louis”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Goodnight Louis :) x”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Goodnight Harry xx”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“Louis”

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Yes?”

From: Harry  
To: Louis  
“I’m excited for Friday :)”

Louis smiles at the screen of his phone and then into his pillow while he sleeps that night.

From: Louis  
To: Harry  
“Me too Harry, me too”

**Author's Note:**

> that wasn't too shabby was it?  
> come say hi-  
> @firstkissharry  
> entirelyinsane.tumblr.com


End file.
